Original subtitles

Previously on Billions...

I sure as hell will testify about what Chuck Rhoades did

and that Charles Rhoades Sr. was steering his own money

and Chuck's money was directly involved...

Stop.

I'm willing to pay you 30 million to tell the truth.

You'll give my people a statement

laying out how Rhoades did what he did.

How much do I use?

Just trace amounts on my signal.

Give up your so-called license to trade.

That is the only angle.

I can't be seen to be guiding the firm.

It'll all be up to you.

The gaming license?

They're announcing soon, and there's sure to be a bounce.

My cash happens to be tied up

in a few real estate deals right now.

Let me guess.

Kingsford?

"The first ship to make a manned mission to Mars."

I haven't stayed in bed past 5 a.m. since 2001.

I had my man follow them.

Look at that morning-after glow.

Why don't you reach out, talk to him?

If there's any reaching out,

it should be from the other side.

What, you want me to initiate, for Christ's sake?

They're in this.

I can't look away from it anymore.

Ira Schirmer showed us to the well.

But all we had to do was look down

to see the thick crude on our boots.

We tracked the size of your position.

Matching that of your son's trust.

The timing of the additional investment corroborates

Mr. Schirmer's affidavit:

Chuck directed you to invade the trust.

He baited Axelrod, he is complicit

in the sabotage of the Ice Juice IPO.

Don't say a thing

until they say the magic word.

We are prepared to offer you immunity.

That's the one.

In exchange for your cooperation.

Alternatively. Perjury carries five years.

Tell me: You have that to spare?

_

Connerty knows what Schirmer was trying to say in our interview

and is chasing it down.

I wouldn't be surprised if he talks to your father.

Or already has.

That's disquieting.

Will your father hold up under questioning?

He's a free-radical.

Not taking my counsel at the moment.

Then you have a real and unsolvable problem.

So I have to get my father to keep quiet.

And you need to remind Connerty he has a fucking day job.

This is some advanced real estate play.

Let the Saudis keep 432 Park.

This is the real prize.

The last burial plot in Manhattan.

And all the time to enjoy it.

Only 350,000,

and this cool slice of earth is mine.

Well... and long may it remain unoccupied.

Mr. Axelrod.

We have eyes on the three labs in the Tri-State area

capable of production and storage

- of the Ice Juice toxicant. - FBI is interviewing

the lead techs at each of them.

- They'll be onto ours soon. - By the time

they get to our lab, make sure there is no lab.

Got it. What else?

Dake is protecting Rhoades.

Ira Schirmer saw it firsthand.

He also saw that Connerty, if properly armed, won't let up.

You have the Schirmer affidavit?

Deliver it tonight?

Go arm him, gents.

This is Charles Rhoades.

Leave a message, and I'll get back to you.

You RSVP'd no, you hate reunions.

"The dead are more present than the living,"

- I think you put it. - Changed my mind.

Connerty's aware of my father's involvement,

he's trying for details.

Hard to convince your father to protect you

when you're not talking to him.

Mm-hmm.

So, uh, Yale reunion,

here we come.

- They're giving him an award. - Right.

Twenty-fifth and 50th are the same night, so he'll be there...

He quite enjoys the presence of the dead.

Makes him feel victorious.

You're gonna convince him.

For me.

For us.

Our family, yes.

We are.

Together.

_

_

World-Aid is poised to provide

solar-powered, air-conditioned tents

to Central African nations

through our new solar tent initiative.

Bobby Axelrod.

Oscar Langstraat.

- I know who you are. - Good to finally

- meet you in person, Bobby. - You too.

So you, um,

you flew in private to worry about a cure

for overheated Southern Africa?

Well, my plane runs on recycled corn oil,

so it's all good.

Ah. That's what I have my masseuse use too.

You're not as bad at this as the articles say.

- At what? - Small talk.

But I can see it's work for you.

Look, these charities

have basically become feel good machines.

You gave ten mill. They'll say thanks.

They'll ask again. You'll give again.

But at the coming board meeting

I'm pitching a drastic shift.

I think that World-Aid should own the company

that makes the solar panels.

- Rayveon Solar. - Right.

That way, when the panels go into wide use,

World-Aid itself profits from it,

grows, becomes self-sustaining.

Venture Philanthropy.

There's some of that disruption you're famous for.

Disruption works.

It's uncomfortable but effective.

- Like rolfing. - I don't know.

You might be able to sell that shit out by the Bay, but...

Venture Philanthropy is the future.

I sought you out because I want your support

when I bring this to the board.

My support isn't gonna help.

The folks on the World-Aid board,

they aren't in it for the future.

They like the access and the status it gives them.

And they don't want to lose it.

Their risk tolerance is exactly zero.

Coach Tikhonov in Lake Placid.

That's a sport ball analogy, right?

Ok.

The future hurts.

But only once.

Denying it stings forever.

Like Shelob in Cirith Ungol.

Oh, that's a Middle Earth/fantasy analogy, right?

Ok.

But the board doesn't take to outsiders

telling them how to do their job.

I bear an unpleasant communiqu�:

Due to your legal entanglements,

the chairman has asked that I represent

the Axelrod Foundation on the dais... in your stead.

I remember a time when ten million

got you on the main stage...

Go ahead, Ayles.

And there it is:

The only person the board mistrusts

more than someone like you, is me.

But I'm still on the board.

So I'll consider your proposal.

Good day to you.

I come bearing tithe. And a lot of it.

And is this gift unencumbered?

Once I get what I came here for, use it how you'd like.

I want to secure the available burial plot, for all time.

I'm afraid there is no available burial plot.

Who snaked me?

An individual who had a prior relationship with the Church.

I don't suppose you could tell me who...

Sorry.

I knocked on your office door.

You weren't there.

It's all one big office, Oliver. Committed as we are.

So you must be interviewing that lab tech?

Later.

I'm about to interview another prime suspect.

Are you? Don't get waylaid.

Axelrod is the bullseye.

And the green ring around it, too,

whatever that's called.

The single bull.

Yeah.

That's Axelrod. The single bull.

Mr. Rhoades.

Brace a man while he's grooming himself,

hope the intimacy makes him feel vulnerable.

An admirable tactic, Bryan.

This is a respectful courtesy call.

I'm letting you know, before anyone braces you:

We're aware of your involvement in the Ice Juice IPO.

I've known Ira Schirmer for years.

As my son's college roommate, then lawyer.

So I threw a little capital behind the boy's venture.

Not much more to it than that.

Yeah, that's how it'd look

if Ira weren't prepared to testify

about what really went on.

Well, I guess, you wait

for someone to embarrass himself, he will.

We just need you to confirm what Ira said:

Chuck directed you to invade his trust

and knowingly participated in the sabotage of the company.

You must think I'm a physical moron.

That's Victorian for retard, understand.

- Mm. - You want me to testify

against my son. At my peril.

And you don't even tender the reach-around of immunity?

- If I had that to offer... - You would have.

But you don't. Which is too bad for both of us.

Maybe I'm as tired as you are of my son's moves.

Maybe I'd even like to burn him down.

But we are a long way from that.

Now...

if you want to continue this,

we can do so in there.

Otherwise, I'm done with you.

Why does this keep happening to me...?

I want you to introduce Taylor

- to Rayveon Solar. - The solar panels...

If we can make the World-Aid board invest,

that stock will go through the roof.

So we need to be in position. It's gonna be huge.

And I want it in the main fund when I'm back.

- Then it'll be done. - I can't be seen

as steering Taylor, so put it in front of them. But don't.

What if we have Ayles do it?

Dress it up like it's charity.

He's the most subtle man we've got.

- Yeah. Good. - Yeah, but what if Taylor

senses you're behind it?

Will they steer away?

Well, all depends on what has the stronger pull:

fear or money.

We'll find out when we find out.

Eventually, all comes clear.

Speaking of eventuality...

somebody got cozy in my forever-bed

before I had the chance to secure it.

Can I use your team of ninjas to help me find out who?

You know they're kind of occupied with bigger shit right now.

But... what could be bigger than your eternal resting place?

Go ahead.

The countdown clock is

T-minus eight hours to launch

on tech titan Craig Heidecker's first ride into space

and to the International Space Station.

This is the first stage in Heidecker's ambitious plan

for an eventual manned mission to Mars.

Heidecker acquired...

And the papers want to know whose shirts he wears.

How did we ever think to short that smile?

His charm is a liability. It means people believe

whatever he tells them. And he believes it, too.

It ends up having a washing machine effect.

The stock will, pardon me, skyrocket

once he hard-docks at the Space Station.

Size it down?

Farpoint scrubbed the last three launches.

Guidance and navigation each time, no corrections found.

Another scrub sets them back two years.

Stock will dump, and they'll be extra cautious with the CEO aboard...

Size up on the short.

I will. Can I be honest?

I'll be honest.

I'm rooting for him to get there.

I am too.

First step is the ISS. Next, space colonization.

My bet is against his business model.

Not his vision.

Right on.

You give, we match!

During the GiveBack Charity Drive.

The largesse of Axe Capital on display, base to tip.

Unless you don't give.

In which case we're matching thin fucking air.

- The e-mail was received. - I gave.

I saw the amount.

If that's giving, I weep for the women in your life.

The Axelrod Foundation means well. But is intrinsically inefficient.

I put my resources to good use, when I find a deserving outlet.

Or are you not asking?

No, no, I get it.

Everyone from your prom date to PETA coming to you with palms outstretched.

That's always the way it is when you make your first score.

But Sean Ayles and what he does with the Axelrod Foundation

is different.

Time you two thumb wrestle.

Who, in the name of goodness, is that?

That's the Bear Jew.

Savage.

Yes, he is.

For the cause.

As are we.

What's up?

Uh...

Seems that the disrespect shown you at the tent demo

was symptomatic of an entrenched ill-will.

They plan to hold a vote to remove you from the board.

You had to know this was in the offing.

Also, you had to.

Is this a matter of public persona?

- Because there are ways to... - No.

This is not a rehab play.

There are other reasons that I need to stay on that board.

The vote, traditionally,

happens in absentia of the person being removed.

I am unconcerned with tradition.

Off to lunch with your CIO.

Seems they're dubious of the Axelrod Foundation's efficacy.

Look, I'm stuck here watching skulls get crushed on TV,

so I need Taylor crushing skulls on my behalf.

Make them see the efficacy of the Foundation.

More specifically make them see the play on Rayveon Solar.

Use all your powers and all your skills...

Mick Nussfaur.

The fucking ambulance chaser?

Yes. New York's top personal injury lawyer.

We can leverage. Has a girlfriend

- his wife doesn't know about. - Wife is ill.

Girlfriend's family rich and powerful.

Her parents have a mausoleum in Green-Wood.

This I can and will work with.

Bill me for your time.

Axe offered to cover.

I hope you're as good to each other as he is to me.

Our lab tech.

The one we had as likely supplying the toxin...

He boarded a flight for a far off land.

It seems "later" was too late.

I told you what to focus on, you didn't.

Get on those remaining accomplices.

I'm aware of your skepticism of what I do.

Philanthropy is a cesspool.

The charities you give to

are blind to the problems they aim to solve.

Even Bill Gates. He gave malaria nets.

And people used them as herring nets.

Only they were coated in chemicals.

So coastal West Africa

ends up with depleted and inedible fish stocks.

They asked him to stop helping.

Axe is forensic

and demands maximum efficiency in all pursuits.

Look at the World-Aid solar tent initiative in particular.

Twenty million people on the verge of famine in Africa

due to the rising temperatures.

Both they and their barley must be kept cool.

This is a real answer.

I'll review the brief.

And it is sent.

Mr. Wagner.

Reading your medical report,

I expected you to be wheeled in on a gurney.

This isn't yours, it's a ploy...

I needed to see you and didn't want you forearmed.

Oh, so this is adversarial?

I hope it's mutually advantageous.

I come to you, not with physical injury,

it's true, but with a lifetime of spiritual harm done.

Not my racket.

Unless there's one third commission on salvation.

I think not.

Then talk in a language I might understand, or leave.

I'm here for the burial plot.

To suggest that you move on.

If you know that I maneuvered my way into getting it,

then you have to know that I'm not about to let it go.

I'm offering you something better.

I've secured you a prime patch at Green-Wood.

P-7 tract.

That's not an offer. That's a threat.

To what, expose my side piece?

I know you care for her.

Care for her? I love her.

Tits made to fit in a nice sized martini glass.

I'm sure you've seen pictures.

And this way, you can lay together

in her family's mausoleum.

I had to ensure others would be moved,

all under cloak of secrecy,

so that no one would know about any of it

until you were gone.

What's the rest, you're gonna tell my wife?

I'm trying to protect her.

So I have something you want and you're coming for it.

That's an average Wednesday for me.

The cuticles.

You do that while getting fellated?

Long as I nut, who cares?

Are you offering to fellate me for the plot?

'Cause that's a hard no.

Look, man,

I have fucked up a lot in life.

I want to do death right.

Wagner, you're not my problem

on either side of the mortal plane.

How's this: The plot is yours.

If you take immediate occupancy.

Otherwise, be the fuck from my office.

Legend is, King Cole

is releasing his royal air under that robe.

That's why he smiles.

Because the jesters have to take it.

It's a gesture of respect

that we alerted you in advance of your removal.

And what a kindness that is.

Yet it's of a different style than the one I showed you.

My support of our worthy cause. My fucking ten million.

Look, Bobby. It's your board-appointed right

to appear at the meeting.

But you know how things leak.

I wouldn't want you to be portrayed as desperate and begging.

I'm a problem for you.

Your board thrives in the dark,

slurping up the fringe bennies...

the five star lunches, the golf junkets,

the safaris under the guise of "fact finding missions."

My presence shines an unwanted light,

'cause I'm someone who actually works for a living.

The conduct of the board, under your direction,

will be found out.

And nothing will change.

Because that's how it's been for all time.

Mm.

A little cronyism greases the wheels of the machine.

And no T-shirt Billie with the law on his tail

is going to change that.

Fart in my fucking presence

and your reign will meet a swift end.

We'll return to the frolic,

but a few awards must find their deserving recipients.

The first is a Distinguished Service Award.

Given to an individual

who has exemplified the Lux et veritas

that guides this institution:

Mr. Charles Rhoades.

My remarks would pale

beside those of someone who knows him best.

So.

A surprise guest to present this award.

US Attorney for the Southern District of New York.

Mr. Chuck Rhoades Junior.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Uh...

It was a short walk for me to get here.

My 25 year reunion is happening 100 yards east.

So...

But in truth...

it's been a short walk for me to get most anywhere in life.

My father, Charles Rhoades, made sure of this.

He had me at 25 years old.

An age at which I was finishing law school.

Drinking as I pleased.

Chasing women,

if not always catching up.

But my father stepped up and sacrificed

the remaining years of his life as a young man,

to ensure that I got the right start.

And as I grew,

he taught me to recognize and seize opportunity.

The value of loyalty and alliances.

The obligations of privilege.

In essence,

he gave me the key to the workings of the world.

He handed me every advantage.

And his sense of duty has carried forth.

The Distinguished Service Award. To a distinguished man.

A life of service.

Come get this thing, Dad.

Oh.

Dad.

You played those heart strings like Orpheus.

To no avail.

And on this hallowed ground, the site of my greatest conquests,

you have the impertinence to show your weakest self.

Connecticut Hall.

I fucked three girls in there once, in a 24 hour period.

One in the can.

You screwed a girl in a dorm bathroom?

No, sonny.

Well. That was before AIDS.

Wouldn't have stopped us.

Fact that it stopped your generation says it all.

We forged ahead, damn the torpedoes.

I should have known better.

The sentimental approach was never going to work on you.

I realize I may endure the consequences of what I've done.

May go down.

And if you are unable to protect me...

I want to know that you'll protect Kevin.

Be the man in his life.

My speech was under false pretenses.

But there was truth in it.

You were a role model.

The boy will be looked after.

Ok.

But please, none of that Uncle Maurice shit.

We walk in together.

You collect your wife.

Some people find you impressive. So you will shake a few hands.

Then leave.

Manticore-2 sits ready to launch.

Last scrub was T-Minus 8.

T-Minus 10 seconds.

It's gonna happen...

Four, three, two, one.

And we have liftoff.

We're now standing by for updates...

Who's gonna say it?

Fuck it. I'll say it.

Farpoint is gonna tank!

It's payday on that beautiful short!

You didn't put a banana in his tailpipe, did ya?

Yeah! Fuck, yeah!

Hey.

Craig Heidecker died.

His... it, exploded.

Well isn't that a shame...

A real goddamn shame.

I'm sorry, Wendy.

For your loss.

Mr. Rhoades, I wanted to introduce myself.

- My son was... - Excuse me.

My son was on the law review with you.

He admired you greatly.

As the manager of the factory,

you know the placement of the surveillance cameras.

But not well enough to avoid them all.

We have you pissing in the soup.

And people's lives were placed in jeopardy.

Which puts your freedom in that same position.

I was told they weren't in any danger,

that a doctor was consulted.

A doctor?

Trace amounts, he said. Keep it as safe as can be.

The man who instructed you. Describe him.

Fifties.

Bald.

Glasses...

Medium nose.

And like that. Work begets results.

I looked closer.

Pierced the firewall on Senior's position.

And its size matches that of a trust in Chuck's name.

Question is: did Senior violate the trust?

Or was he directed to do it?

Hm.

Important questions, no doubt...

The only ones that fucking matter. And about time we got the answers.

Can't look away from it anymore, Oliver.

Perhaps an exploratory meeting with Rhoades Senior then.

I may have already done that.

Ah.

He's gonna require immunity to come in

and I'm gonna offer it. But I need your sign off.

Or furnish me a fucking reason you'd refuse me.

In writing.

Offer it.

Bourbon in a cup.

Thanks.

So you knew.

- Had me followed. - No, no.

But my father did.

And he told me.

Took pleasure in it.

Chuck... It...

It was a symptom of...

disarray in our marriage.

I caused that disarray,

and it has since been ordered.

And we're going to leave it at that?

This won't come back around later.

It leveled me, Wendy.

That's the truth.

Broke parts of me I didn't know existed.

But that pain focused me,

on priorities both work and home.

So I'm glad for that.

And if it does rise,

I will do my best to bring it to you in a civilized manner.

Ahh.

I told you about my first time.

- With the junior... - Yes.

Yes. Wasn't so.

She was my first amateur.

Uncle Maurice took me to a brothel

on my fourteenth birthday.

So young.

That's practically Kevin's age.

Yeah.

I was as ashamed as I was nervous

as I was excited.

And Uncle Maurice swore it would be between me and him...

but when I got home, my father was waiting up for me.

And he knew all about it.

Told me he'd picked Ginger for me,

that he knew she'd get the job done right.

Take me "'round the world."

You discovered he was unfaithful.

Mm-hmm.

And it was the first time

my father ever said he was proud of me.

So... how was Ginger?

Well, Dad was right about that.

Yeah. She took me 'round the world.

Ohh.

- Yeah? - It's happening.

Your father is being brought in.

All on the record now.

You'd better prepare yourself.

Connerty's got my father.

Hm.

This evening was a misstep.

I should know the man by now. Anticipate his reactions.

Not act on what I hope them to be.

You do know your father. And how he responds.

All too well.

That's right. I do.

And you need to use that.

Exploit it.

_

Just occurred to me.

We only sup when difficulties are at hand.

But perhaps this time is different?

My father's going to serve me up.

So you may need a new horse for the governorship.

Well, only so if you're willing to surrender.

- Are you? - I am not, willingly.

But circumstance may cost me it.

I have tried

almost all manner of appeal.

Almost all...

Well, then I believe Joe Scolari can be of help.

Your father's Kingsford land

is in the good state senator's domain.

Which presently works in your father's favor.

But that can change.

To do so, however, would be a move you cannot walk back.

So, are you sure?

Craig Heidecker's wristwatch

contained 456 pieces.

Inside a 38 millimeter case.

Hand assembled by one horologist over the course of a year.

Some of the pieces are invisible to the naked eye.

It's precise to plus or minus point-five seconds a day.

As close to faultless precision as possible.

That's how he lived.

I know how he lived.

We, uh...

worked together. Briefly.

Look, he understood

precision is an objective, not an end.

It's what gets one as near to perfect as possible.

But perfection is unobtainable.

That's hard for you to accept

because in some areas it is within your grasp.

Math is perfect.

And he did the math.

A thousand times a day, a thousand days in advance.

Before he put his life inside that vessel. I am sure.

But there's always "X." The unknown.

A buildup of oxygen in the aluminum liner.

Can't be solved for. He'd know this too.

And he decided the risk was worth it.

The success of that mission

would determine the viability of his vision:

To make the universe hospitable.

Because we'll need it to be.

I knew the risk was too great.

The signs read this way. And I bet against him.

He wanted to save our lives...

I profited off his death.

You lost a hero and were rewarded for it.

These things are in conflict.

But conflicting emotions require we resolve the conflict.

Can they be resolved?

One emotion has to prevail.

Otherwise you languish while the dispute carries on

and you miss opportunities.

It's normal to feel two things at once.

But when you're here.

Mind the truth that makes you money.

I brought pie. So to speak...

Seeing as we'll be neighbors.

Oh, it's you.

The plot is spoken for.

Nussfaur?

I heard you're on your ass.

You can't afford a choice patch like this.

That's fucking hilarious,

considering my wire has already been sent.

Is that right?

Just here to sign.

You can kiss my red eye on my way out.

Things I'm hearing, I'd check the wire if I were you...

Knock yourself out.

It... appears his... your deposit has been retracted.

There's insufficient funds.

That's bullshit!

I keep 350 in my car ashtray.

Sir, if you can't pay...

I can and I did.

Probably over extended.

His marriage is collapsing like the walls of Jericho.

Where'd you get that crap?

I read about you being outed with your mistress on Page Six.

May I?

Shit!

I'll have you hoisted by your scrotum for this, Wagner.

So now you have a vacancy.

And now you don't.

You leave boards all the time.

Yeah. When I fucking choose to.

I don't choose to leave this one.

So you're not gonna go gracefully.

I am going into that room,

and I am gonna play duck duck goose.

I'm gonna remind each and every fucking one of them

how I've personally enriched them.

And I am calling in the return.

There's little to be gained by instigating foes.

Then they will be taught there is no strength in numbers.

Fats McCarthy,

he killed 22 Germans and captured fifty.

A half-kilometer of a trench by his own hand.

I can take this fucking board.

So you're an army of one?

And fortified.

There is a toxicity

that comes with being charged with a crime.

Sure, it may matter to people in finance,

but their reputations are buttressed by money.

Philanthropies only have their reputation.

And you are a threat to theirs.

It's like academia. Everything's a big fucking deal,

because the stakes are so small...

So this is where we live now...

in retreat.

We fall back. We preserve.

We defend.

It'll pass when you clear your name.

But for now, you need to embrace

the victory of self-awareness. Because out in the world,

you might keep taking losses for awhile.

That's where you're at.

We both are.

I'd like to push the final item to the top of the agenda.

Changing the agenda requires a unanimous vote.

I'll expedite: you don't have it.

Fine.

First order.

Oscar Langstraat, one of our most important donors,

would like to address the board regarding a...

Venture Philanthropy initiative.

Thank you.

I value your good works.

But organizations must change, because the world is changing.

Venture Philanthropy, conducted with precision and care,

is that change.

We'll need those tents in here,

you keep pumping in the fucking hot air.

There'll be no crosstalk.

So I'll just talk.

Venture Philanthropy can work.

But it requires a rigorous level of oversight.

This group isn't built for that.

Then what are we built for, Axelrod?

Listen, Langstraat, I'd love to let you burn them,

in the name of burnishing your own rep.

But I cannot let you hurt the people of sub-Saharan Africa

just so you can be part of yet one more cutting edge movement.

Wake up, Axelrod.

Cystic fibrosis is on the verge of being treatable,

or even curable, thanks to VP.

They've created a way

to earn the money they need for research

instead of endlessly fundraising.

Look. Don't try and reinvent who we are, here.

There is a reason for the tried and true...

it may not be perfect, but it works.

Look, you will make fools of yourselves.

A 50 million dollar investment in Rayveon Solar

would allow the people to bypass Africa's failed electric grid

in the way cellphones bypassed its phone lines.

They'll be able to power homes, businesses, indoor farms...

Like the bard says:

save the bold moves for the brilliant players.

That ain't you.

And it sure as shit isn't anybody sitting around this table.

Spoken like the overpaid day trader you are.

So says the fucking Northern California pipe dreamer.

Don't do it, people.

Mr. Langstraat's proposal goes to a vote.

Those in favor of establishing a fund

for the purpose of venture investment.

As I, for one, certainly am...

You're making a bigtime fucking mistake...

The motion passes.

As will, I expect, the next.

I motion to remove Robert Axelrod

from the World-Aid Consortium Board of Directors.

Those in favor.

The Board thanks you for your contribution.

To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit

from the only state senator who matters?

I felt it was only right to let you know personally:

The Kingsford land

may need to be reassigned as a conservation area.

Eastern elk need all the help they can get.

Delicate species, require a certain habitat.

Whereas a casino, like a fungus,

will thrive in any dank climate.

If the casino moves, my land up there is worthless.

This is some overreach of the canton, Joe.

Eastern elk need all the help they can get.

Delicate species.

Require a certain habitat.

_

We are prepared to offer you immunity

in exchange for your cooperation.

Alternatively. Perjury carries five years.

Tell me: You have that to spare?

Ira is a liar.

A disgruntled, failed investor.

I touched my son's money because I saw a win.

I believed it was within the scope

of my power as Trustee.

Chuck was my victim.

And we were both victims of Bobby Axelrod.

Do you know what happens

when that statement gets rebutted in open court?

I don't want to put you in jail, sir, but I will.

We've both loved this man...

you as his father, me as a sort of son.

But it's time to do what's right.

I would've thought that my son trained you better

than to rely on emotion,

when only true fortitude will get the job done...

You have my statement, buckeroo.

Well. I gave you your shot with him.

Now, pick back up on the other witnesses.

Do you carry this model?

The 5270R in rose gold.

We do have one.

Perpetual Calendar chronograph.

Silvery Opaline dial.

Day, month and leap year in apertures.

Moon phase...

Sapphire-crystal case back with hinged dustcover.

Fold-over clasp in 18 karat rose gold.

164,400 dollars.

You're welcome to try it on...

I'll take it.

Nice piece.

I'd forgotten what your voice sounds like.

Because I only heard it through Wags. Ayles.

You had them work me on the tent initiative...

The message was received. I saw the play.

Well enough to act on it?

I bought a basket of solar to obscure it...

ten names... including Rayveon.

Good.

The board approved the venture fund.

Rayveon Solar is churning panels out of Shenzhen right now.

Your play all along.

Get the board to expand the initiative.

Axe Cap reaps the win on manufacturing.

Your aim is true. So is mine.

Heidecker.

Farpoint stock price went the way of its founder.

Our short paid big.

About halfway through your screed, I realized:

You weren't insulting me.

We were dancing.

Well, I couldn't rid myself of my toxicity

so I aimed it.

For my benefit. They hate you so much,

they forgot that they hate me too.

Thank you for throwing the vote my way.

My pleasure.

Oh, I imagine it is.

I'm guessing you laid a healthy position

in Rayveon Solar in advance of the outcome.

Oh, no, I don't trade equities.

I do.

Oscar, my CIO, Taylor Mason.

Did you buy in yourself?

I don't burn from both ends.

It's in the interest of my brand to be above reproach.

Well, I don't have that luxury...

or burden.

The fund really is to World-Aid's benefit.

They'll never know the good you did them.

To the good we've done.

And will do.

Do you know why Ethiopians eat this way?

Shared? In the center?

It's to foster a sense of community.

Keep everything in the open.

So everyone sees how much is available.

And everyone knows they got their fair share.

It keeps everyone honest...

We've all done well today. All got our portion.

But you two might be better suited to a steakhouse.

Where everyone has his own plate.

Plenty such establishments in Mountain View.

And I'd be happy to host.

You two would find fruit in our humble valley.

I'll leave this to you two to carve up.

I'm proud of you, son.

You did what was required.

Fucked me good.

Damn the torpedoes.

Bravo, Wags.

As the epitaph shall read.

I thought this was a vanity play.

But. More a matter of legacy.

Some people frontload,

establish their legacy early in life.

I've left mine to the end...

Or hopefully it's only the middle.

Who knows?

Heidecker knows.

Fuck, 33.

Too soon.

No, dying in your thirties is "tragic."

As is forties.

Sympathy dissipates from there.

Fifties is "such a shame."

Sixties is "too soon."

Seventies... "a good run."

And eighties is "a life well lived."

Nineties...

That's a fuckin' hell of a ride.

Don't get too comfortable.

A hell of a ride.

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